


Not What They Expected

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Chubby Cas, College Student Castiel, College Student Dean, College Students Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderfluid Castiel, Genderfluid Character, I kinda wanna write more about this, Insecure Castiel, M/M, Tags Are Hard, body image issues, but idk, id have to do a shit ton more research on gender fluidity, well see what happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-19 17:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5975980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas pulled out their phone and typed out a simple "This is Cas," only reconsidering twice before pressing send. A couple seconds later, a text came back. </p><p>"Heya, Cas! Can't wait for our date later!" It was followed by a winky face emoticon, and Cas couldn't help their smile. They loved emoticons. </p><p>They drew up short...Dean had called it a date. But he hadn't really meant that, right? He couldn't have. He'd probably meant study date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, I'm placing all blame for this on Psychecas and her chubby!cas headcanons. They inspire me. 
> 
> Just a note: Cas is gender fluid in this au, hence the them/they/their pronouns. If I slipped up on one, sorry!

Cas settled down into the small uncomfortable desk, grimacing at the tight fit around their midsection. Who the hell invented these torture devices? And who the hell decided to use them as desks?? They tried to tug their plaid skirt down some, painfully aware of the way the desk caused it to hike up more than they'd like, revealing pale, chubby legs. 

Cas sighed. It wasn't really the tiny desk that made them feel uncomfortable; it was the way the desk rubbed right against their tummy. Other students could fold their hands in their laps or hide their phones on their thighs. Cas couldn't do that; there wasn't enough room for them to do anything but slouch uncomfortably with the wooden edge of the desk digging into the pudge at their midsection. 

It used to not be so bad, back in high school. All of Cas's friends had known them and had loved them, despite the extra weight. But now, now that Cas was trying to find their place in a huge student body at university...they were so much more self-conscious about it. 

It was the first thought that popped into their head when they met new people: please don't judge me. When they saw people they were attracted to, they didn't try to flirt or go for it like Gabriel would. They'd look the other way and hope that they wouldn't do anything to draw too much attention to themselves. 

They'd only been in classes for a few weeks now, but they'd learned the hard way that people didn't go for the chunky ones; they went for the model blondes, like the girl sitting in the desk next to Cas. 

Cas bent down to retrieve their books from their bag, grimacing internally at the way their stomach roll bulged out even further with the simple action. They quickly sat back up straight (well, as straight as one could sit in these death traps from the pit) and tugged at their grey t-shirt to make sure that it wasn't hugging their roll too much. 

Cas had just opened to the chapter they were studying in class today when they heard, "Hey," from beside them. 

They glanced up to find a tall man with sandy brown hair and bright green eyes. He smiled down at them, his cheeks dimpling at the corners of his mouth. 

"Hey can I..." He began, and Cas immediately nodded. 

"You want to sit here," they guessed. Of course Cheeky Dimples would want to sit next to Blonde Model. They were already gathering their things to move to the next desk when the man spoke again. 

"Actually, I was wondering if the desk next to you was open," the man interrupted, halting Cas's actions. Their cheeks heated with an embarrassed blush. 

"Oh, uh, of course," Cas murmured. The man sat down in the chair next to Cas's, settling his tall frame into the tiny desk. 

"I tell ya, these desks are so fuckin' uncomfortable," the man muttered, shifting around uncomfortably. Cas smiled weakly; at least they weren't alone in their opinion. 

"I'm Dean," the tall man announced, holding out his hand toward Cas. Cas stared at his hand for a moment, trying to figure out what the hell was going on here. Usually guys tried to avoid touching them at all cost, but Dean just...threw his hand out there, like Cas was normal, like they weren't something to be avoided. 

Cas slowly extended their hand, gingerly shaking Dean's before quickly pulling back. Just because the guy was willing to shake their hand didn't mean that he wanted to prolong the experience or anything. He was just being a decent human being. 

Cas looked back down at their books, ready to lose this man's attention. His green eyes had already looked at Cas for far longer than most people, and he'd only been sitting there for a few seconds. Cas knew that Dean had to have seen the way their double chin protruded when they looked down, had to have seen the extra chub around their eyes. 

But that was okay, right? It's not like Dean would actually talk to Cas past introductions. He'd was just being nice so far, but he was probably ready to move on. Maybe he'd lean around Cas to flirt with Model Blonde on the other side. Cas would just ignore him, that way Dean would know that it was okay to ignore them back. No hard feelings. 

Dean's deep voice broke into their reverie. 

"What, I don't get a name back?" 

Cas glanced at Dean out of the corner of their eye, their blush heightening. "Cas," they murmured through numb lips. Why wasn't this guy moving on already? Cas had ignored him; Dean could ignore them without feeling guilty about it. 

"Cas," Dean repeated, his mouth fitting around the single syllable like it was something to be discovered, something to be treasured, like it was not just a flat word that somehow managed to seem better than the biblical monstrosity of a name that their parents had slapped on them at birth. 

"I like it," Dean decided. 

"Thanks, I've had it all my life," Cas muttered, eager to be finished with this conversation. The longer they talked to Dean, the longer Dean had to judge their too-snug t-shirt and too-short skirt. 

Dean burst out laughing, and Cas frowned. Okay, so this guy didn't pick up on body language or rude verbal cues. It was like he was oblivious, but in the best kind of way. He hadn't even asked Cas about their red lipstick or plaid skirt once yet. 

Almost as if he could read Cas's thoughts, Dean's eyes dropped to Cas's lap. He smiled softly, and Cas stiffened slightly. Well, that had been a nice little break; now Dean was probably going to ask them about the skirt, force them to explain why they wore them, and at the end still say, "But I don't get it...you're a dude." Cas knew this was how it would go because that's how it always went. 

"I like your skirt," Dean offered, and Cas drew up short. That had...not been what they'd been expecting. In fact, they'd only had one other person tell them that, the bubbly redhead who worked in the campus coffee shop. 

Cas blushed again. "Thanks." 

Dean shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "So you a freshman?" 

Cas nodded. "This is freshman English." Their tone was deadpan, but it still caused Dean to chuckle.

"Yeah... I know. I've never been really good at the English stuff, though. After I failed it last time, I decided to wait a while before taking it again." 

He said all this like it was no big deal, like it was totally normal for him to fail something, like it was expected. Dean shrugged. "Us dumb jock types don't do so well with the academic stuff. So I waited til now to take it again." 

"What year are you?" Cas asked, long past the urge to end the conversation. 

"Senior," Dean replied. "So I definitely gotta pass it this time, or no degree." 

"Oh," Cas murmured, feeling bad for their blunder earlier. "Um...I'm actually pretty good at English. If you ever need help...you know." They trailed off, unsure of how Dean would feel about accepting help from a weird freshman. 

Dean smiled widely. "Yeah, okay. I'll keep that in mind." 

The teacher started class then, so their conversation ended, but Cas wasn't as relieved about it as they would've thought. They actually liked talking to Dean; he didn't ask stupid hurtful questions or make dumb assumptions. 

At the end of the hour, Dean turned back to Cas. "Yeah, I'm definitely going to need your help." 

"Oh, uh...okay. Sure," Cas agreed. "When do you wanna meet?" 

"I'm not sure," Dean replied. "I have football practice later, and I don't know when Singer'll let us out. He's always a hardass around this time. How bout we trade numbers, and I'll text you when practice ends. We can meet up then? Maybe go for coffee. I mean...if you're free, of course." 

Cas blushed. That sounded dangerously close to a date, but that was a stupid assumption. It was just studying. Cas nodded, pulling out their phone and handing it to Dean. Dean typed in his number and handed it back to Cas. 

"Okay, make sure to text me so I have your number, okay?" Dean reminded, and Cas nodded dumbly. 

"Awesome! See ya later, Cas," he said with a wink before he turned away to hurry from the room. 

Cas slowly gathered up their books, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. So now they had a gorgeous guy's number, and they were supposed to text him. Right. And then they were going out for coffee later. But it isn't a date, Cas reminded themself sternly. 

Cas pulled out their phone and typed out a simple "This is Cas," only reconsidering twice before pressing send. A couple seconds later, a text came back. 

"Heya, Cas! Can't wait for our date later!" It was followed by a winky face emoticon, and Cas couldn't help their smile. They loved emoticons. 

They drew up short...Dean had called it a date. But he hadn't really meant that, right? He couldn't have. He'd probably meant study date. 

Cas shook their head and pulled their messenger bag over their shoulder before trudging from the room. 

Just a study date, just a study date, just a study date. 

Despite repeating the mantra over and over again, Cas couldn't quite squelch the little flutter of hope in their chest or the tiny smile that tugged at their mouth.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Um," Cas glanced down at their painted nails that gripped tightly to the strap of their messenger bag. "Thank you, for that." 
> 
> "My pleasure, Cas," Dean replied. "It's not every day I get to buy a gorgeous person coffee." 
> 
> Cas blushed again. Dean couldn't have meant that; he was just being nice. Cas almost told him that it wasn't necessary to flirt, that they would help him either way. In fact, they'd rather that Dean didn't flirt with them, that way there wouldn't be any mixups. Because while Cas kept reminding themselves that it wasn't a date, Dean's flirting wasn't helping them keep that perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had people ask me to continue this, and I love the story, so I did.

Cas stood in line at the coffee shop, fiddling with the strap on their messenger bag as their eyes scanned the room. The tables and chairs were almost completely filled, but none of the other patrons were Dean. Cas felt a simmer of anxiety begin. 

They didn’t like going out in public by themselves; it somehow seemed to invite people’s stares more. If Cas was with friends, it was almost like people could accept them more because they saw their friends accepting them. But alone… It was always harder. 

Cas looked back down at the floor, their cheeks flaming as they smoothed down their skirt. They’d almost changed out of it, but Dean had said that he liked it. And despite their firm reminder to themselves that this was most definitely not a date, they found that they still wanted to look somewhat nice for Dean. So they’d worn the skirt, but had held off on applying more lipstick and mascara. 

The line shuffled forward, and Cas realized that they were second from the front. They still had no idea where Dean was. He’d texted to say that he’d meet them here, but he hadn’t texted to say whether he had gotten a table or not. Cas resolved to choose a table near one of the darker back corners, that way only a few people would see them together. No need to embarrass Dean by putting them in the center of everybody. 

“Next!” the barista called, her bright voice filling the space with enthusiasm. Cas stepped forward and smiled shyly at her. 

“Hi, may I have a grande flat white, please?” they asked, and the girl nodded happily. 

“Sure thing! I love your skirt by the way! Did you get it at Hot Topic?" 

Cas squinted their eyes and tilted their head. "No, I didn’t get it at the…Hot Topical…" 

The girl smiled kindly. "Oh, I thought I saw one like it there." 

"Uh, maybe? I buy all my clothes at plus-size stores,” they explained. They didn’t bother mentioning that most clothes at other stores didn’t quite fit, and the clothes that fit looked like it had been designed for a grandmother.

"Well, you’re rockin’ it!“ She complimented, and Cas smiled softly. 

"Thank you." 

"What’s the name on the order?” she asked as she pulled out a marker. 

"Cas.“ 

"And Dean wants his usual,” a deep voice sounded from near Cas’s elbow. Cas’s gaze shot to the tall man standing next to them, and one green eye winked at them. 

"Heya, Cas,“ he greeted as he handed a twenty to the barista. Cas blushed as they watched the money exchange hands. 

"I could’ve gotten mine,” they protested, but Dean just shook his head. 

"Nah, I got this! I mean, you’re here helping me; least I could do,“ Dean assured them. 

"Dean, you can’t just go barging into people’s coffee orders and taking them on hostage dates!” The girl chided, but Cas could hear the teasing in her tone. 

"Look, they’re here with me of their own volition,“ Dean promised, and Cas’s eyebrows arched at his correct use of pronoun. Dean hadn’t even asked them what they preferred, but he’d still known.

Charlie just shot him a knowing look. "Sure, they are. I bet he has your family tied up in his basement or something, huh?” She teased Cas. 

"My cat, actually,“ Cas replied deadpan. Charlie blinked at them for a second before bursting out into laughter. 

"Oh, I like you!” She pointed a finger at Dean. “Don’t mess this up! I want you to bring them on Friday." 

Cas glanced up at Dean. Bring them where? 

"Are you gonna take my money or not, Charlie?” Dean griped with a blush. 

The girl—Charlie—took Dean’s twenty and counted out the change, which Dean promptly dropped into the tip jar. 

"That’s not coming out of the lunch you owe me!“ She called as Dean led Cas toward the end of the counter to wait for the drinks. 

"Yeah, yeah!” Dean called back good-naturedly. Cas’s blush heightened when he realized that the friendly banter was drawing the attention of nearly everyone in the shop. Dean didn’t even seem to care that everyone saw them together, that anyone who glanced up could see him—tall, gorgeous Adonis that he was—standing with Cas and their plump figure and pretty skirt.

"Sorry I was running a little late,“ Dean apologized. "Right after I sent the text, Coach stopped me to talk about something that happened in practice.”

"It’s okay,“ Cas assured him with a small smile. "I was waiting in line the whole time." 

"Ugh, that sucks! Now I’m kinda glad I got held up,” Dean admitted. 

Cas shook their head. “Yeah, leave me to do all the waiting and then swoop in at the last minute. Good plan!" 

"Hey, I paid, didn’t I? I did my part,” Dean mock protested, and Cas couldn’t help their giggle. 

"Um,“ they glanced down at their painted nails that gripped tightly to the strap of their messenger bag. "Thank you, for that." 

"My pleasure, Cas,” Dean replied. “It’s not every day I get to buy a gorgeous person coffee." 

Cas blushed again. Dean couldn’t have meant that; he was just being nice. Cas almost told him that it wasn’t necessary to flirt, that they would help him either way. In fact, they’d rather that Dean didn’t flirt with them, that way there wouldn’t be any mixups. Because while Cas kept reminding themselves that it wasn’t a date, Dean’s flirting wasn’t helping them keep that perspective. 

Once their orders were up, Dean led Cas to a table near the window, right in a bright patch of sunlight that filtered through the glass, painting square patterns across the smooth wooden surface of the table. It was a bright, open spot where anyone inside, and even those people sitting outside, could see them. It was the opposite of what Cas would’ve chosen. 

It was like…Dean really didn’t care. He didn’t mind that anyone could see him sitting with Cas, the chunky freshman with the faded lipstick and bright red skirt. If Cas didn’t know any better, it felt like Dean wanted them to be seen together, like he wanted people to know. 

Dean pulled out his book, smiling openly at Cas. "Okay, so…let’s talk about English!" 

Cas nodded hastily, opening their book to the pages covered in lecture that day. "Okay, so every sentence can be split into two parts: the subject and the predicate." 

——————-

Two hours later, Cas and Dean packed up their things. Cas tried to ignore the way their fingers kept brushing across the tops of books and around pens as they handed things back and forth between them. Dean grabbed Cas’s long-empty cup and walked to the garbage can to throw it away with his own. 

"Thanks,” Cas murmured when he returned, and Dean simply smiled. 

"Thank you. I actually understand this shit now!“ He enthused, and Cas couldn’t help their fond smile. Dean was so eager to learn, which was rare, especially if it was a subject someone wasn’t good at. 

Cas admired him for that enthusiasm…among other things, like his warmth with Charlie and his protective streak for his younger brother Sam and his concern for his teammates. Not that Dean had specifically said any of those things, but Cas had picked up on them from tiny snippets throughout their study session. 

But most of all, Cas admired him for letting Cas…just be Cas. 

Through their conversation, Dean hadn’t questioned them once about their gender or sexuality. Not that Cas minded answering questions, but it did get a little tiring. But their time with Dean had been fun, relaxing. They’d laughed more in these two hours than they had since they’d come to school. 

As they stepped outside into the warm evening air, Dean glanced around. "Which one’s yours?" 

"Um, I actually walked,” Cas explained as they readjusted their bag on their shoulder. 

"From where?“ Dean asked, his face showing the first sign of displeasure Cas had seen. 

"Wilkinson Hall,” Cas answered. 

"Cas, that’s like a twenty minute walk! you should’ve told me; I would’ve given you a ride,“ Dean cried, but Cas just shrugged. 

"I don’t mind the walk,” they assured the taller man. 

Dean shook his head. “Look, I’m sure you don’t, but there are… Well, there are some sketchy people on this campus, and I’d hate for anything to happen to you.” 

A soft blush spread over Cas’s cheeks. They would’ve thought that after two hours of teasing and laughing with Dean, they would be able to control their blushes. Apparently not.

_He’s just concerned_ , Cas reminded themselves. _He probably views you like he does Sam; some younger sibling to be protected._

"Look, I’ll give you a ride back now,“ Dean offered. 

"You don’t have to,” Cas protested. 

Dean smiled gently. “Well, what if I want to?” 

Cas studied him for a full ten seconds before nodding. Dean grinned triumphantly as he spun away and led Cas toward his car, a boxy black thing that Dean obviously treasured, if the way he lovingly patted her hood as he greeted, "Hey, Baby," was anything to go by. 

"I like it,“ Cas praised as Dean opened the passenger door for them. 

"Yeah, Baby’s my pride and joy,” Dean said before he shut their door and jogged around to the driver’s side. As he slid in, he continued, “I spent seven months refinishing her during my junior year of high school." 

"She’s gorgeous,” Cas murmured as they ran a soft hand over the dashboard. 

They were only a couple minutes down the road when Dean announced, “I’m starving! You wanna grab a bite?" 

"Uh…sure,” Cas agreed. “But I can pay for my own this time." 

"Fair enough,” Dean said as he took the next right instead of driving straight. “You like burgers?" 

Cas nodded, causing Dean to grin. "Awesome!”

Dean pulled into a Sonic and parked in one of the last docks, despite the fact that there were several open ones closer to the front. He glanced across at them, smiling nervously. 

"Little more privacy back here,“ he murmured shyly. 

Cas giggled. "That makes it sound like you’re going to murder me and hide my body or something.” They paused, a frown flitting across their mouth. “You’re not going to do that, right?" 

Dean chuckled and shook his head. "That skirt’s too pretty to ruin." 

Cas’s hands smoothed over the fabric of their skirt, a tiny flutter coursing through their stomach. "You don’t have to say things like that, you know." 

"Things like what?” Dean wondered, his brow furrowing. 

Cas blushed. “The…the compliments and stuff. I know that…” They trailed off, their gaze locked onto their hands in their lap. “I know what I look like. You shouldn’t have to…to say stuff like that." 

"Cas,” Dean murmured. When Cas didn’t look up, Dean reached across to lay a hand over theirs. “Look at me, Cas. Please." 

Cas finally looked up at him, their blue eyes wide and nervous. Dean squeezed their hand. "I don’t say stuff I don’t mean. When I say your skirt is pretty, I mean that your skirt is pretty." 

Cas’s stomach flutters picked up, their blush evident even in the darkness of the car. "Really?" 

"Really,” he hesitated for a moment. “Cas, you say you know what you look like, but I don’t think you do. You’re gorgeous." 

Cas snorted and shook their head, looking back down at their hands so Dean couldn’t see the pain in their eyes. "I’m overweight." 

Dean smirked. "So? So what, you’re a little chubby. It suits you. A little bit of extra weight doesn’t automatically make you unpretty." 

Cas glanced up at him, their smile soft. "That’s nice of you to say, Dean.”

"But you don’t believe me,“ Dean guessed. 

Cas looked apologetic. "I’m sorry; it’s not that I think you’d lie. I just…” They trailed off, shrugging. 

Dean grinned. “That’s okay. Just means I’ll have to work harder to convince you.”

"Convince me?“ Cas echoed, and Dean nodded. 

"I am going to make you believe me,” Dean promised, and Cas huffed a laugh. 

"Dean, that’s really not necessary,“ Cas tried, but Dean shook his head. 

"It absolutely is, Cas,” Dean argued. 

"Why?“ Cas wondered. 

"Because everyone deserves to know that, and I feel like you may deserve it more than most,” Dean murmured, his gaze warm on Cas’s face. “You’re beautiful, extra weight included." 

Cas couldn’t help but think that if Dean kept staring at them like that, they might actually start to believe it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Look, this Friday a few of us are having a movie night at Charlie's place," Dean hedged. "You, uh..." he ran a hand over the back of his neck. Cas didn't interrupt, too caught up on containing their hopeful expression. "You wanna come with me?" Dean finally blurted in a rush of breath. 
> 
> Cas finally allowed the hopeful smile loose; they couldn't help it. They nodded, humming softly. "I'd like that, yeah."

When Dean pulled into the parking lot for Cas's residence hall, he put the car in park and turned it off. Having expected him just to drop them off, Cas glanced over at him surprised. 

Dean smiled softly. "Figured I'd walk you to your door." 

Cas turned their head to look at the front door to the building, judging the distance. It was literally like twenty feet, and the walkway was well lit. Dean could easily watch them from the car.

"You don't have to," Cas assured Dean as they reached for the door handle. Dean just shook his head. 

"I already brought you this far; might as well make sure you get inside okay, right?" He said it lightly, like he could really care either way, but a soft blush painted his cheeks. 

Cas smiled and tilted their head toward the door. "I suppose." 

Dean grinned and jumped out his door, running around to get the passenger door for Cas before they could even open it all the way. 

Cas climbed out, discreetly tugging at the hem of their shirt as they did. They didn't want it hugging their pudge too tightly. Dean's eyes still caught the tiny, habitual action, but he didn't comment on it, for which Cas was grateful. They didn't think they could handle another heart-to-heart tonight. 

Cas moved to heft their bag up onto their shoulder, but Dean caught it easily and flung it over his own shoulder. He let out a tiny grunt at how heavy it was. 

"Holy shit, your bag is heavy!" He exclaimed, and Cas shrugged. 

"I'm taking eighteen credits this semester, so I have a lot of books," they explained. 

Dean just smiled as he shook his head ruefully. "Of course you're taking eighteen credits!" 

They meandered up the front walk toward Cas's building, their pace slow, like they were each trying to prolong this moment for as long as possible. But that was impossible, Cas reminded themselves. Dean was just being nice. 

Cas tried to ignore the fluttering in their chest as shoulders bumped and fingers brushed between them with each step, tried to recall that this had just been a study date and nothing more. They needed to keep that in mind, and hopefully they wouldn't do anything too stupid to fuck this up. 

When they finally reached the front door, Cas reached to take their bag, but Dean didn't seem willing to give it up just yet. Instead he glanced down at his shuffling feet, his cheeks heating the tiniest bit under Cas's perplexed gaze. 

"Look, this Friday a few of us are having a movie night at Charlie's place," Dean hedged. "You, uh..." he ran a hand over the back of his neck. Cas didn't interrupt, too caught up on containing their hopeful expression. "You wanna come with me?" Dean finally blurted in a rush of breath. 

Cas finally allowed the hopeful smile loose; they couldn't help it. They nodded, humming softly. "I'd like that, yeah."

A slow smile spread over Dean's mouth. "Awesome!" 

He took hold of the bag and gently eased it onto Cas's shoulder, his fingers brushing along the soft skin of their neck as he did. It was an accidental brush, not something that Dean had ever intended, surely. Cas tried to contain their shiver, but they didn't quite succeed. 

They knew that Dean had noticed the shiver. He hesitated, his gaze caught on Cas's. His green eyes held so much, even in the relative darkness of the front walk. It almost looked like...like hope. But that was stupid to think. Dean wouldn't hope for anything from Cas, no matter how much he claimed he was gorgeous. 

//Look away//, Cas reminded themselves, feeling only slightly overwhelmed with Dean's...everything. //Look away before you do something stupid and irreparable//. 

Cas shifted slightly, dropping their gaze to their stomach. The sight of their shirt hugging their pudge effectively reminded them why Dean wouldn't want to kiss them, why he wouldn't want to touch them. They needed to stop letting those stupid hopeful thoughts take reign; the hope would just make it hurt more later when they were proved wrong. 

If Dean was disappointed or relieved by Cas looking away, he didn't show it. Instead he reached for the door handle and waited for Cas to swipe their card to unlock the door before opening it. 

"I'll, uh...I'll see you in class on Friday," he murmured, and Cas smiled. 

"See you in class on Friday," they echoed softly. They stepped over the threshold, tossing Dean one more soft smile before the door shut behind them. 

The person manning the security desk, a sardonic dark-haired woman named Meg, quirked an eyebrow at him. "Aw, your boyfriend walked you to the door and everything!" 

"Not my boyfriend," Cas mumbled, a blush staining their cheeks as they flashed their school ID at her. 

"Good," Meg murmured, but her voice said otherwise. She stared at them for a few moments before nodding, like she'd made up her mind. "Listen, hon, you seem sweet. So let me give you some advice," she leaned forward in her chair, "men like Dean Winchester—you know, all-star, good ol' American quarterbacks with women falling over them—don't go for chunky, awkward freshmen, especially transgender ones." 

Cas stared at her blankly, shocked by the sudden attack. She didn't even know them, and yet... Yet, she was right. What she said aloud wasn't anything more than what Cas had already told themselves in their head. She was simply giving voice to their silent doubts, confirming them. 

"I'm actually genderfluid," Cas corrected. "But...uh...thanks." 

They rushed away, their head bent down so they could stare at the floor as they walked. They fought back the tears that threatened to spring up. They shouldn't be crying, not really. They'd told themselves the whole time that Dean would never ever go for someone like them. So why were they so in pain now?

Their thoughts danced back to that moment, just minutes before, when Dean's fingers had brushed against Cas's neck, when he'd stared at them like...like he wanted them. And all those times that their shoulders had bumped, and their fingers had brushed, and their eyes had met for the briefest of moments, and their shy smiles had matched... 

Cas belatedly realized that those had all been unintentional. Dean probably hadn't even noticed. Even though Cas had kept warning themselves otherwise, they'd unconsciously assumed that Dean meant for those to happen. 

But Dean hadn't. They'd been coincidences, mistakes. 

Dean was just being nice; everyone could see it. That's why it didn't matter to him if people saw them together at the coffee shop and in class. No one would actually believe that Dean Winchester would ever go for someone like Castiel Novak, genderfluid freak that they were. 

If anything, it looked like Dean was taking... Oh. 

As soon as the thought popped into Cas's head, they froze. That's why it was okay for Dean to hang out with Cas. It looked like Dean was taking pity on them. 

That's what everyone thought, probably because that was the truth. There couldn't be any other explanation for it. 

Dean was a good guy with a big heart; he'd probably overheard someone making their typical nasty remarks about Cas and had decided to take pity on them. This wasn't really because Dean wanted to hang out with them, or even because he needed their help. He was a popular guy. He could get anyone to tutor him in English. He was just hanging out with Cas because that was nice guys did; they pitied the outcasts like Cas and befriended them. 

But Cas, they didn't want a pity friendship. They didn't need it. And if that's all Dean had to offer, then they didn't need Dean either.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas knew that they'd have to find another person to help Dean with English; they couldn't just leave him hanging. Maybe Balthazar would tutor him? Cas ignored the sadness that welled in them at that thought. They'd only met with Dean once, but they'd had so much fun. They kind of already missed it.

Cas wasn't usually late to class, nor did they make a habit of cutting it close to the bell, but they made an exception for English on Friday. They knew that if they were already seated by the time Dean got there, he'd sit next to them, so they determined to wait until the last possible minute before heading to class. 

They sneaked in the back with only fifteen seconds to spare, settling into one of the empty desks on the last row. Their eyes skimmed the classroom until the landed on Dean, sitting in the same spot as they had on Wednesday. Cas felt a pang run through their chest when they saw the empty seat that Dean had obviously been saving for them.

They knew that they'd have to find another person to help Dean with English; they couldn't just leave him hanging. Maybe Balthazar would tutor him? Cas ignored the sadness that welled in them at that thought. They'd only met with Dean once, but they'd had so much fun. They kind of already missed it.

Right then, Dean caught sight of them and grinned. With only three seconds to spare, he practically jumped up from his seat and hurried to the back to sit with Cas, plopping down into the empty seat beside them right as the bell finished ringing. 

"Hey, I saved you a seat up front," he breathed as the teacher started class. 

Cas tried to hide their guilty blush. "Um, yeah. I was running way late, so I just took whatever was closest to the door," they lied. Dean didn't even notice though; he was too busy pulling out his books. 

Cas sighed heavily as they pulled out their own books. So that plan had failed. 

Dean glanced over then, and Cas smiled softly. Dean's gaze dropped to Cas's mouth, just like it had the other night in front of their dorm, and just like the other night, Cas's chest and stomach swarmed with the weightless wings of a million butterflies. 

"I really like your lipstick," Dean whispered. 

Cas blushed and glanced down at their book, breaking the connection. They'd told Dean to stop saying things like that. Dean suddenly reached across to jot in the margin of Cas's notebook. 

//I mean it//

Cas glanced up at him then, and Dean smiled encouragingly. Cas blushed and mouthed "Thank you." 

Dean shrugged, as if it were no big deal to say such things, as if the words had no other purpose but for the sake of being said. When Cas looked back to the front of the classroom, a tiny smile lifted up their mouth. 

\--------------------

After class ended, Dean waited as Cas packed up their messenger bag. 

"So, uh..." Dean started, trailing off after a moment. He glanced down at his scuffed boots. "You're still coming to Charlie's tonight, right? For the movie night?" 

Cas hesitated. They really should say no. It wouldn't be fun for them, not if they had to constantly be on guard to make sure they didn't say or do anything stupidly hopeful in front of Dean. But Dean looked so eager, and Cas couldn't bring themselves to deny him. 

"Of course!" Cas replied, smiling brightly. "When and where should I meet you?" 

"I can pick you up at your dorm at seven, if that's okay," Dean offered. 

"Sounds perfect," Cas agreed as they hoisted their bag onto their shoulder. "I'll, uh, see you at seven." They hesitated for a moment before blurting, "I have another class to get to." 

As they rushed from the classroom, they silently cursed themselves and their inability to say no to pretty green eyes.

\--------------------

"Hey!" Charlie cried as she opened the door to her apartment. She pulled Dean into a hug then pulled Cas into another tight squeeze. "Glad you could make it! Pizza just got here." She paused for a moment, taking a second glance at Cas's mouth. "I like your lipstick!"

Cas blushed. "Thanks." They almost hadn't worn it, but Dean had said that it looked nice, and he'd promised that he didn't say things he didn't mean, so Cas knew they could trust him. 

"Dean, my man!" A man with a mullet cried from just over Charlie's shoulder. 

"Ash!" Dean called. 

"Who's at the door?" A woman's voice called from further in the apartment. 

"Dean and his date are here!" The man yelled back. 

Cas froze, glancing up at Dean nervously, but the taller man was studiously avoiding their gaze, his own cheeks bright. He held out his arm, ushering Cas inside. 

"Where's the beer?" Charlie asked. 

"I don't know," Dean muttered. "It wasn't my turn to get it."

Cas stopped just inside the door, unsure of where to go as Dean and Charlie descended into an argument about who was supposed to supply the beer. 

Charlie finally sighed defeatedly. "I guess I could text Dorothy. She might still be at the store." She whipped out her phone and began tapping at the screen. 

Dean punched Mullet in the arm as they passed the couch. "Always so tactful, Ash." 

"What?" He cried indignantly, rubbing his arm. 

"Don't mind Ash," a blonde girl encouraged Cas as she walked in from the kitchen. 

"That's Ash?" Cas confirmed, pointing at Mullet, and the blonde girl nodded. "And I'm Jo." 

The front door swung open and two brunette women stepped into the apartment with a cry of, "We got beer!" 

"What kind?" Charlie asked as she stepped forward to press a quick peck to one of their mouths. 

"The kind you like," the woman assured her as they pulled apart. Charlie spun around to face Cas. "Cas, this is my girlfriend Dorothy, and that's Pamela." 

"Hey, Sweetheart!" Pamela greeted, winking at them as she sauntered past them into the kitchen. 

"How was work?" Dorothy asked as she kicked off her sneakers. Charlie immediately launched into "the tale of the broken latte machine and the intrepid barista" (or so she put it). Cas couldn't help their giggles as she described what had been, at least according to her narrative, a massive explosion that she was lucky to have survived. 

Dean just rolled his eyes and bent down to whisper, "Charlie can be a little dramatic sometimes." 

Cas pointedly ignored the chills running up and down their spine, instead grinning at Charlie. 

"I'm glad you survived. It would've been a little awkward if you hadn't," Cas offered, and Charlie chuckled. 

"I'm glad I survived, too! It would've sucked to die right before I finally got to meet //the// Cas!" she exclaimed. 

Cas arched a brow, their confusion clear in their expression. "The Cas?" they echoed. 

"Of course. Dean's only been talking about you nonstop since Wednesday!" Dorothy teased, winking at Dean, who'd gone a bright shade of red. 

"Oh, um...yeah, he made a pretty big impression on me too," Cas said, smiling shyly up at Dean, trying to show him that there were no hard feelings. Cas was different; it only made sense that Dean would talk about them to his friends. But if anything, the blush on the tall man's cheeks got worse, but his eyes also grew lighter, happier somehow. 

"Really?" He prodded, as if he were the one who needed some kind of affirmation from Cas, which was ridiculous. Dean Winchester was perfect, popular, loved. The people surrounding them were proof enough of that. There was absolutely no reason for someone like that to need assurance from someone like Cas. 

Still, Cas nodded and smiled. "Of course! You...you make me laugh," they admitted softly. "And you're nice and don't ask me stupid questions about...my skirts and makeup and stuff. And you treat me like a person, and I don't have a lot of people who do that. But you do..." Cas cut off suddenly, blushing furiously. They'd been rambling like some lovesick teenager. Fuck. 

They glanced at Jo, who wore a happy grin. "What did I tell you, Dean? Of course they like you!" 

Cas looked up at Dean, shocked. He'd really thought that Cas didn't like //him//? Dean blushed even more heavily. 

"So we gonna get pizza or not?" He asked. The others agreed and hurried into the kitchen to grab their dinner, but Cas stayed rooted to his spot. Dean arched an eyebrow, but Cas shook his head. If Dean wouldn't let Cas think bad things about themselves, then Cas wasn't about to let Dean think bad things about himself. Showing more courage than they'd ever believed they could, Cas reached out to grab Dean's hand and gave it a light squeeze. 

"You're pretty amazing," Cas murmured softly, grateful that all the others were in the kitchen right then, affording them some privacy. 

Dean shook his head. "Nah, I'm good at tossing a football around, and that's about it." 

Cas gaped at him. "Dean, no! You're amazing! I mean, you care so much about your family and your friends. Hell, you care about me, who you barely just met. And so what you take a little more one-on-one time to get things? Nobody's perfect at everything. And you try so hard, and you're so...enthusiastic about everything, including English." 

Dean looked down to where Cas's hand held his. "So you don't mind, havin' to explain everything to me? I mean, I know it's probably a little frustrating..." 

"Absolutely not!" Cas assured him, squeezing his hand for emphasis. Dean squeezed back, his green eyes boring into Cas's as they exchanged warm smiles. Cas didn't know how long they would've stood there, smiling at each other dopily, if it hadn't been for Charlie pointedly clearing her throat.

Cas looked over toward the sound only to find all of Dean's friends grinning at the pair. Cas practically yanked their hand away and rushed into the kitchen to grab a pizza slice, a guilty flush staining their cheeks. Holy shit, what were they thinking? They were supposed to e keeping their little crush under control, not adding to it!

After Dean had grabbed his pizza, he led Cas back to the living toom where the others were already seated. They settled down into the only empty spots on the sagging couch, pretty much sharing one cushion between them. 

They started with an Indiana Jones movie, one that Cas had only seen once or twice on tv. More entertaining than the movie, though, were the friends. Cas couldn't help their dopey smile at the banter that the friends kept up throughout, shouting at each other and at the screen. 

When that movie ended, Jo grinned at them mischievously. "Ready for something a little scarier?" 

Cas's stomach flipped. They liked scary movies well enough, but they had yet to get through one without screaming and burying their face in a pillow. Well, they'd actually made it through Prom Night pretty okay. 

Ash jumped up and switched out the DVD's, laughing maniacally as the opening menu displayed Jack Nicholson's grinning face. 

"You ever see The Shining?" Dean quietly asked Cas as Charlie pressed play. Cas shook their head no, nibbling on their lower lip. 

"Just so you know, I'm kinda awful during horror movies. Like, I scream and close my eyes and all that other cliche stuff," Cas warned him. 

Dean smiled encouragingly. "Well, if you need anything to hold onto," he held out his hand in a silent offering. 

Cas knew they shouldn't take it. It had been bad enough in the kitchen when they'd taken Dean's hand, but now...now Dean was offering it. Cas grabbed the offered hand, linking their fingers tightly together and squeezing. A glance at Charlie confirmed that she was, once again, grinning triumphantly. Cas just blushed and turned his attention back to the screen. 

When Jack entered room 237, Cas looped their arm through Dean's, squeezing tightly. By the time Jack hacked through the bathroom door, Cas had their face buried in Dean's shoulder. They were practically in Dean's lap as the camera zoomed in on the photograph for the last frame, Dean's fingers stroking through their hair. 

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Ash asked, but his tone was smug. Cas chanced a peek over at the others and found them all grinning widely at the way Cas and Dean were so tightly situated.

"Not funny," Dean muttered. 

Pamela shrugged. "What? I don't see what you're complaining about," she glanced meaningfully toward where Cas's fingers curled into the front of Dean's flannel. Cas blushed. 

"Sorry," they mumbled, starting to disentangle themselves. Dean's arms tightened around them. 

"Don't be," he murmured softly. Cas smiled, still embarrassed, but it all washed away as Dean admitted, "Gave me an excuse to hold you."

Cas's gaze dropped to Dean's mouth. Dean's fingers stilled in their hair, his eyes bright and hopeful. He slowly leaned forward, his nose nuzzling against Cas's, and Cas felt their chest construct in anticipation. Dean paused a hair's breath away. 

Cas's eyes flicked up to meet his, only to find the silent question there. Cas smiled and pressed forward, closing the distance between them until their mouths met. Dean's fingers tightened in their hair, tugging at the silky strands, and Cas gasped as they slid their arms up around his neck to pull themselves even closer. 

They probably wouldn't have stopped but for someone loudly clearing their throat. When Dean and Cas finally tore their mouths apart, Cas found that their lipstick decorated Dean's mouth and chin. They giggled and attempted to wipe at it, but found that it only made it worse. 

"Well, what do you know, Cas," Charlie cried. "Your lipstick looks good on Dean, too!" 

Cas flushed as Dean lazily grinned up at them. "It still looks better on Cas." 

\-----------------

When Dean dropped Cas off at their dorm that evening, he walked them up to the door again, but instead of their hands and shoulders brushing between them, Dean kept a firm hold on their hand. 

When they reached the door, Dean tugged them close for another slow kiss. Cas smiled against their boyfriend's mouth, their heart flipping giddily. As they pulled back, they dropped another small kiss on the corner of Dean's mouth. 

"Do you wanna do brunch on Sunday?" Dean asked. 

Cas nodded. "I'd love that," they whispered. 

"Good," Dean whispered. Cas swiped their card, and Dean opened the door for them. As they slipped past Dean, the tall man stopped them with a hand on their waist. He stole one last kiss, grinning unrepentantly. "One for the road." 

Cas just rolled their eyes and stole one more kiss themselves before skipping inside. 

"See ya Sunday," Dean called. 

"Sunday," Cas promised as the door shut behind them. They pulled out their card to flash at the desk worker, only to find Meg arching a brow at them. 

"I thought you said he wasn't your boyfriend?" She accused. 

Cas shrugged. "It's still a new thing."

Meg humphed. "Wonder what the other guys'll have to say about it?" 

Cas felt a tinge of anxiety rise up in them, but then they realized... "I don't care." 

Meg grinned widely, the first real smile Cas had seen her wear. "Good."


End file.
